


find my way home

by tyrostone



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Catra is a princess, Eventual Smut, F/F, Halfmoon, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Princess Catra (She-Ra), Slow Burn, what even are tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:48:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27919243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyrostone/pseuds/tyrostone
Summary: "Catra! You can't just walk away! We need to put our weapons back!"Catra growls her reply without turning around. "Mercio will take care of it - come on! Let's go get this over with!" She does not stop, nor does she look back for confirmation of the order from her guards, but Adora can see that her fists are balled up at her sides, clenching in anger.Adora flashes an apologetic smile to Mercio, who stands some feet away, watching the scene play out patiently. "Sorry Mercio! Thanks a bunch! See you in there once you're done!"Turning back toward the direction of the main palace, she runs after her princess.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 91





	find my way home

**Author's Note:**

> First fanfic ever! Let me know how you like it.
> 
> Disclaimer: Serious canon divergence here. I wanted to answer the question "how would She-Ra be different if Catra was princess of Halfmoon and Adora grew up in the Horde by herself?". Oh, I'm also going to throw some Omegaverse (A/B/O) in the mix too, because why not?

"It is not befitting of my station to want," Adora responds, a small smile playing at the edges of her lips. Standing at her post beside the bedroom's largest arching window, she looks down fondly at her ward. 

Beside the window, Catra is seated in a wooden chair, bent over a small desk, her gaze focused as she energetically scribbles a letter using paper and quill. Her cat ears twitch in playful irritation at her guardian's reply. "Whatever Adora, if you're not going to give your opinion, I want to spar". The young Magicat does not look up from the letter she is writing. She dips her quill into a nearby bottle of ink. 

"We can arrange that. Would you like me to send message to Maya's superiors and see if she is up for a match?" Adora raises her eyebrows as she asks the question. There are only a handful of Magicats Catra’s age in Halfmoon, but Adora knows she doesn’t hate Maya, a young soldier in training, and that they would be evenly matched.

"Adora, I don't want to spar with Maya, I want to spar with _you_ ," Catra whines, eyes breaking away from her letter to look up and meet Adora's watchful gaze.

As Catra's eyes sparkle up at her, one yellow eye, one blue, Adora wonders how such a small creature can contain so much attitude. She pauses to examine the young cat's face, one corner of her mouth curled up into a confident smirk, eyes glistening, focused, daring. She wonders what kind of magic is used to provide the illusion of sunlight that allows her to see the fine details of this face so clearly, despite Halfmoon's existence well below Etheria's surface.

Catra stands from her chair abruptly, it's wooden legs scraping sharply against the stone floor. She paces several steps from the desk to her large, four poster bed. With a huff, she flops dramatically onto her back, arms stretched out perpendicular to her body, landing on the mattress with a soft thump. Her eyes stare up, gaze unfocused, at the crimson tapestry hanging from her bed's canopy. "I just want to get out of here before I die of boredom".

Adora sighs quietly, walking over to stand beside Catra at the side of the bed. She fights the urge to roll her eyes.

"I cannot focus on keeping you safe if I am focused on trying to attack you. The queen would never forgive me if something were to happen to you due to my lack of focus, or my carelessness". Adora crosses her arms and furrows her brow to emphasize her point, and she can't help thinking to herself, "And neither would I". 

"Oh come _on_ Adora, you can't actually believe that." Catra punches her hands backwards into her mattress for emphasis. "What's going to happen? Do you think the Horde will just fall out of the sky and attack us? Oh wait, there _is no sky_ , we're _hundreds of feet underground_." As she speaks, Catra lifts her head up to stare at Adora once again.

"You don't know what the Horde is capable of," Adora responds sharply. At the mention of her former residence, Adora feels herself stiffen and tense. It's not a topic she enjoys discussing, bringing up memories of her past.

If Catra notices, she doesn't acknowledge Adora's change in demeanor. 

" _Please_ Adora, we can stay underground, we can ask one of the mages to cloak us in an invisibility spell. We've got walls and ceilings and stone to protect us. What if we brought Mercio with us? He can watch for anything suspicious and if at any point you start to worry, we can stop." Catra sits up to kneel on the bed, her body angling forward, leaning toward Adora. One hand grips Adora's left wrist, the other grabbing a fistful of her golden guardsperson's cape, tugging Adora down slightly to bring their eyes level. 

Under the spell of those eyes, Adora feels her resolve weaken. "Oh Catra, I...I don't know..." she hears her voice fade off, she has no logical argument against it. They could bring Mercio. There are guards everywhere, watching. They are literally hundreds of feet underground. And isn't this what Her Majesty wants? A guard the princess can relate to, can trust, someone who can keep up with her and work to contain her wilfully disobedient tendencies?

Catra lets her hold on Adora go, shoving her back slightly, toward the room's walls. "Let's go out and do it then!" Catra quips triumphantly, as if she can smell Adora's waning hesitation. Catra's mouth breaks into a wicked grin. "Unless you're too afraid to lose to me like you lose whenever we race," she hops off the bed, walking briskly toward her bedroom door, only pausing to swing it open wildly.

"Hey!" Adora shouts, jogging after her. "That's because you always cheat!"

As Adora chases Catra into the corridors of the royal family's estate, she grabs one of the guards stationed at the side of the bedroom's entrance, yanking him away from his post. "Mercio! You're coming with us!" Adora tries to sound authoritative, despite how Catra has flustered her.

The Magicat guard yelps audibly as Adora pulls at him roughly. As she drags him down the corridors, from the corner of her eye she sees him reach up with his free hand to adjust the white bascinet on his head, which was knocked askew by the force of her pull. His yellow cape flows behind him, exposing the long-sleeved green tunic beneath it. He's handsome, as far as Magicats go, tall with broad shoulders that fill the tunic of his royal guard uniform. 

Adora's uniform is a complete match, save the patched hole in her brown pantaloons, the vent used by every other member of the royal guard to allow their tail to be free from clothing, free to move around and express itself as it wishes. She's the only one with that hole patch, the only non-Magicat she's ever seen in Halfmoon. Most days, it doesn't bother her, but she can sometimes feel the stares, hear the snide comments from younger, ambitious Magicats, those jealous of her proximity to the royal family, and by association, their power and influence. She can never replace a Magicat, she has no real magic and never will, can't provide astute insight due to her lack of familiarity with the culture and ways of Halfmoon.

"There were all types in the Horde,” Adora muses to herself. Back then, no one cared what you looked like, as long as you worked hard and showed ruthless determination in subduing and exterminating the enemy. Both of which Adora had proved herself quite competent in, then. It was easy, there, to know her place in the world. She allows herself to think this.

But she has other goals now, like not letting the sole princess of Halfmoon be harmed in any way, even if she has a penchant for doing stupid, risky things like sparring with the youngest captain of the royal guard in Halfmoon history. 

Adora, the only non-Magicat royal guard captain in history. If she plays her cards right, she could become the only non-Magicat advisor to the royal family of all time. Despite her past, she has the opportunity to do something good with her life, and she isn't going to waste it.

She snaps back to reality, realizing she is falling further behind Catra, who is already on her way out of the royal estate. "Come on, we need to move - otherwise we'll lose her and who knows what she'll get up to then". She's not sure if the comment is to Mercio, herself, or the both of them.

They move silently, quickly, down the steps of the royal estate and out into a wide courtyard, the main square of Halfmoon. They follow princess Catra hurriedly, through stone-walled corridors, past the Bell Tower, toward the North wall of the kingdom. There, behind the Barracks, is the royal guard's sparring yard. Smaller and more isolated than the main sparring yard, the royal family and guard are free to practice fighting techniques in relative isolation and peace.

Mercio and Adora arrive at the weapons storage area, alongside the far edge of the sparring yard. Adora watches Catra walk slowly around, surveying her options. She holds her right hand out, letting her palm slide across the various weapons, broadswords, shields, axes. She stops next to a pile of quarterstaffs leaning together in a corner, grabbing one and tossing it to Adora.

"Still your favorite, right?"

Adora catches it one-handed. "Thanks," she looks at her Magicat counterpart warmly. "I don't know if you want to give me an advantage, though," she states matter-of-factly, grinning broadly. "You know that sparring is like half of my training, right?" Adora makes her way over to a pair of gloves suspended on a hook nailed to the wall. Slipping the gloves on her hands, she begins to walk toward the middle of the yard, staff in hand.

Grabbing a second staff for herself, Catra jogs to meet Adora on the sparring yard. She turns to face her sparring partner. "Don't underestimate me, Adora."

They stand in the middle of the yard side by side, stepping on the familiar Halfmoon crest, a primitive front of a cat's face, with jagged teeth and large, wide eyes, painted on the smooth stone floor. Beginning in the center of the yard, Catra steps three paces to the left, Adora three to the right.

Adora assumes her starting stance, legs just wider than shoulder width apart, staff held vertically, poking up toward the sky, past her face. She practices a strike across her chest and a thrust out toward her opponent, she feels ready. She looks to her opponent, Catra's stance mirrors her own. 

"No gloves for you?" Adora looks down at Catra's hands, then back up at her smirking face.

"Don't need 'em, not everyone is such a princess," Catra responds, tilting her head to crack her neck. 

"You are, quite literally, the only princess in Halfmoon." Adora responds, chuckling slightly. "But sure, suit yourself." 

The fight begins and they circle each other, Adora watching Catra's feet in her periphery. As Catra pivots her back foot, Adora attempts a half-hearted jab - testing to see just how stable her opponent's footing really is. 

Catra dodges the attempt easily, her feet quickly shuffling backwards. Before Adora can capitalize on her forward momentum, Catra pivots her footing again, twirling swiftly to the left, attempting to strike at an opening on Adora's right side. She's quick, quicker than Adora anticipated. Adora deflects the strike with a sweeping motion, forcing Catra's staff to miss her body. Forward motion closes the gap between her and Catra to a half step. She strikes forward, harder this time, and her staff grazes the fringe of Catra's tunic. 

Adora's momentum vaults her past her opponent. Catra sticks her back foot out as Adora passes, tripping her and Adora’s feet leave the floor. Reacting quickly, she ducks into a forward roll, landing on her feet facing away from her opponent.

Her vision steadies and she turns back to face her opponent once again. She finds Catra facing her, staff pointing forward threateningly at Adora’s face, both arms extended. Eyes glinting, she charges forward toward Adora, all patience seemingly lost. 

As Catra approaches, Adora makes several hard strikes at the Magicat’s staff, attempting to knock it out of her hands. Just as Catra is about to reach her, she removes her left hand from the end of her staff, reaching out to grab Catra's shaft, yanking it upward in an attempt to wrestle it free from Catra's grasp. It works, but she's off balance, and Catra's staff knocks into her own. They both lose hold of their weapons at the same time.

Quarterstaffs clacking to the ground, their bodies collide. Catra wraps her arms around the back of Adora's head and neck, lacing her fingers across Adora's collarbone and leaning her upper half against her back, forcing her onto her knees. Adora's body involuntarily falls down under the pressure. She hits her arms against Catra's wrists and breaks free of the hold. Throwing her gloves off, she grips Catra's shoulders and pounces on top of the Magicat. Catra yelps and kicks her feet up at Adora as she stumbles backwards. 

The two engage in a brief wrestling match, rolling across the yard, but Adora's height and weight advantage quickly overpower the Magicat. Adora pins Catra to the floor, her bare hands securing the Magicat's wrists on the ground, her legs straddling Catra's hips. Both of them pant heavily, staring into each other's eyes.

Adora tilts her head to the side, giving Catra side eyes and flashing a cocky grin. "Just had to get close to me, did you? Are you sure we're sparring and not wrestling?"

Catra lets out a loud laugh, throwing her head back against the ground, disarming Adora into relaxing her grip. Breaking free of Adora's hold on her arms, she gives Catra a slight shove in the shoulders and begins to sit up. 

"Not bad, princess. Go again?"

Adora rolls her eyes. "Once again, you are the only princess here, and fighting is literally my job." Standing, she walks over to pick up the nearest quarterstaff, tossing it to the Magicat. "Try to be a little more patient. Get me off balance, then charge."

Adora glances over at Mercio, who is watching from the safety of the weapons storage area. She quickly tilts her head forward at him, raising her eyes, asking for backup.

“Adora is correct, Your Majesty. A little patience can go a long way,” Mercio states wisely, his warm gaze first finding Adora’s eyes, then drifting to meet Catra’s. Adora watches with amusement as Catra returns a dirty look his way.

“Yeah? Well no one asked you!” Catra shouts in his direction.

They set up to square off a second time. Adora attacks first again, attempting a horizontal cut to Catra's left side, which she easily repels. Their staffs clash together, Catra’s forcing Adora's down and against the ground. They struggle against each other briefly in this position, then explode backward, returning to their starting positions. 

As Catra moves to circle around Adora, she spots an opening at Adora's forward foot. She punches a quick trust behind her right calf, causing Adora's knee to buckle. As Adora slams her staff into the ground to steady herself, Catra strikes, but Adora is too quick, recovering and jumping backwards away from the blow. Catra's eyebrows raise in surprise.

Sensing an opening, it's Adora who goes on the attack. She jolts her staff forward one, two, three times, each stab parried expertly. But Catra's footing is too narrow, her hips are tilted slightly too far to the right. 

Smelling victory, Adora confidently swings her staff toward Catra's left side. Somehow, Catra manages to defend the blow. Adora's staff lands squarely on Catra's fingers.

Catra cries out in pain, dropping her quarterstaff with a hiss. She doubles over her hands, her face hidden behind her hair.

"Shit," Adora mutters to herself. She drops her staff and runs over to Catra.

"Catra!" she shouts. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry." She moves to grab Catra's hands, bending down to get a better view of Catra's face.

As Adora's hands and face approach Catra's, she spots a sinful grin on the Magicat's face. Catra grabs her wrists, pouncing on Adora. They tumble to the ground and Catra is able to pin Adora's hands by her sides, sitting on top of her stomach. Her face is just inches from Adora's, she can feel Catra's ragged breath against her left cheek.

Catra is still grinning widely as Adora frowns up at her friend's mismatched eyes. She huffs, but her face breaks into a small smile.

"Okay Catra, I'll give you the win. But next time, hold the staff at a slightly lower angle, that way when you parry my staff, it won't slide down and crush your fingers."

Catra groans loudly, removing herself atop Adora. "Do you always have to have a stick up your butt? We're just having fun! Let's go one more time, best two out of three!"

Adora pauses a moment to reflect. Sure, Catra's being a brat, trying to get under her skin, but what should she do? What can she comment on and when? With the blurring lines between protector, confidant, and friend, it's hard to know what's appropriate for her role. Ultimately, she just wants Catra to be safe, and if improved staff techniques save her in the event of an attack, she'll take the sarcastic barbs that accompany the lessons. She picks herself up off the ground.

As they ready themselves for the final round, a messenger comes running from around the corner, stopping feet from the sparring duo. She stops abruptly, doubling over and letting her hands rest on her knees, breathing deeply for a moment before looking up to speak to the princess.

"Catra! The queen requests your presence in the throne room immediately! You are late for your appointment."

Catra rolls her eyes and scoffs loudly, making no attempt to hide her disdain for the interruption.

"Tell my _mother_ that she can talk to me like a normal Magicat being, during a meal or when we see each other. I'm busy and she can wait."

The messenger shifts uncomfortably, adjusting the brown tunic comprising the top half of her uniform. She gulps, then continues, "She...she thought you would say that. So she told me to also say that if you are not in her chamber in 15 minutes, she will read your incoming letters without you, and begin your betrothal search process herself." Her eyes stay glued to the mural painted on the floor of the yard.

Adora notices Catra's fur bristle in response. Her eyes narrow and her tail begins to thrash back and forth in irritation.

Adora watches Catra stomp off toward the main palace, grumbling indiscernibly.

"Catra! You can't just walk away! We need to put our weapons back!"

Catra growls her reply without turning around. "Mercio will take care of it - come on! Let's go get this over with!" She does not stop, nor does she look back for confirmation of the order from her guards, but Adora can see that her fists are balled up at her sides, clenching in anger.

Adora flashes an apologetic smile to Mercio, who stands some feet away, watching the scene play out patiently. "Sorry Mercio! Thanks a bunch! See you in there once you're done!"

Turning back toward the direction of the main palace, she runs after her princess.

**Author's Note:**

> If I had to summarize the next chapter, I'd take a page out of Entrapta's book and go with "Let's get weird!"


End file.
